


Storm

by castronomicaaal



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:51:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4646238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castronomicaaal/pseuds/castronomicaaal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Beth thought the rain helped wash her thoughts, Rick’s lips are like a river, purifying her soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm

Beth stands still as stone, arms outstretched ever so slightly as the rain pours down, soaking through her clothing and chilling her slight frame to the bone.

Breathing deeply both eyes flutter to a close, her mind racing behind both eyelids one million miles per minute. Thoughts of life before the turn color her senses, bringing forth a millisecond worth of happiness, warming her core. Soon, however, these visions are clouded by memories of dust and decay, of her family being ripped from her grasp piece by piece, scream by scream.

She shivers after, breathing deeply as she wraps both arms around herself as a form of protection. How did life turn so badly so fast? Where is the justice? The redemption? Beth only feels worse when she finds herself questioning her faith, her God. What would her father say about that?

Nothing, she remembers bitterly, because he is dead.

Somehow her eyes maneuver themselves from the forest ahead, thick plush grass and trees turning bare for fall, and her gaze makes its way to the cut along her wrist. Beth trails the scar softly with a single fingertip, the bump of her flesh reminding her of her past suicide attempt. She wonders if it may have been better for her to have gone through with it back then. After all, isn’t all of this pain the exact thing she had been hoping to avoid having to face?

Eyes scrunching tightly, she forces herself to shake these type of thoughts. Beth knows that she doesn’t mean them, really. No matter how minute her addition may be to the group, to her newfound family, she knows that things are better for her having lived. She needs to cling to this realization, to these memories, in order to make it through bad days such as today.

It’s only after Beth feels a familiar hand clasping her shoulder gently, rubbing soothing patterns into her flesh that she finally begins to feel her body relaxing.

“You’ll catch a cold,” Rick tells her, though he does not make to move. Even he can admit that there is something peaceful about standing in the pouring rain.

“It’s comforting,” she mumbles back, biting her lip. “I feel most alive in the rain.”

Rick nods understandingly despite Beth being unable to see so, and contemplates this revelation.

“You’re safe.” He promises this sincerely, planting a gentle kiss to the side of her head in hopes of helping the blonde before him to feel better.

“I know,” she agrees, finally turning to meet his gaze. His eyes feel gentle, pure in this moment, and she finds herself reaching out to cup his chin. Rick’s scruff tickles her flesh slightly, but she finds she doesn’t mind in the slightest. “You are too.”

Rick nods once more, his own hand cupping hers as it rests against his face, warming the flesh beneath her palm. His heartbeat increases as he looks into her eyes, not quite sure of what is going on, but unwilling to break the connection and risk not finding out.

Slowly but surely, as if being pulled by an invisible force, Beth finds herself leaning forward on her tiptoes until her lips brush his own, soft and gently—experimenting.

Everything within his brain tells him to pull away, but his heart takes control before his mind can, pulling the soaking wet girl before him closer and closer until she is flush against his own drenched frame.

If the dead never rose, if their loved ones never died, this would have looked like a perfect scene from the movies. Still, it feels like a beautiful comfort to the both of them.

If Beth thought the rain helped wash her thoughts, Rick’s lips are like a river, purifying her soul. She is still working it out within her mind just why or how this is happening, but already knows that she wouldn’t mind it happening again and again and again for the rest of her life. For some reason beyond her control, his lips sooth her heart in a way that nothing else ever has before. She feels safe wrapped within his arms.

Rick himself feels much the same.

She is such a young woman, a beauty to behold, and he almost feels as though she rests too frailly within his arms—breakable like glass. Still, he knows he wants to hold her, to mold her to his own frame and keep her safe.

Her lips taste like salt and sugar, such a sweet deposition for the pure candy resting before him, within his arms.

Beth finds herself clinging to Rick as though her life depends on it.

Maybe it does.

Suddenly her heart doesn’t ache quite as hard, her scar throb quite as wildly nor her memories of the damned pulsing shots of pain through her veins. Rick’s lips feel like flames licking along her flesh, warming the chill of the rain.

His lips remind her that she is not alone, his arms that she still has family left to keep her safe, to give her life meaning and vice versa.

His lips promise a future and just as suddenly the rain no longer feels so heavy or so cold.

Beth can weather this storm.


End file.
